


Pre Keri Snippets

by Rinkafic



Series: Keri 'verse [20]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Stargate Atlantis AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are a bunch of short snippets/drabbles I did as part of a challenge at Stargateland.  These are all glimpses Pre-Keri.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pre Keri Snippets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fififolle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=fififolle).



**Evan Lorne: Duty**  
“Major Lorne, please report to Operations.”

David grumbled, rolled over and swatted Evan. “You’re being paged on citywide.”

“Mmfff.” Evan rolled onto his side, covering his head with his pillow.

The radio earpiece on the nightstand buzzed again, just as Chuck’s voice repeated the page overhead. “Evan, wake up. They’ll send someone to the door next.” There was a pounding on the door just as David tugged the covers down and tried shoving his panor’eten off the bed. It was for his own good. Duty called, and Lorne would be pissed with himslef later for sleeping too heavily, yet again.

The botanist got up, dragging the blankets off the bed with him as he went to the door. He opened it to see Lieutenant Stackhouse on the threshold, fist raised to pound again. “Hi Doc. Sheppard sent me to get him.”

With a heavy sigh, because he knew this was going to put Evan in a mood all day, David stepped aside and gestured grandly towards the bed, where his partner was still sprawled out asleep. “Be my guest, better you than me.”

“Major Lorne, come on Sir, don’t make me get physical.” Stackhouse called as he crossed the room.

Evan’s face was mashed in the pillow, but the words emanating from the center of the fluff sounded distinctly like, “Muck off, Stacks.”

David smiled brightly and clapped his hands together when Stackhouse looked over at him helplessly. “Oh, you got words! How delightful!”

Moving to give Lorne’s shoulder a rough shake, Stackhouse said loudly, “Sir, AG-3 went missing, Doctor Weir was with them.”

That got through. Evan rolled over and blinked up at the Lieutenant. “Weir’s missing?” He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He reached for his earpiece and slid it into place. He tapped it in annoyance and snapped, “Yeah, yeah, Chuck, the brute squad arrived, I’ll be there in three minutes.”

“AG-3 failed to report in. The people at the village she was supposed to meet up with said she never arrived.” Stackhouse filled in the details as Lorne stumbled around getting dressed.

David stood waiting with Evan’s belt and holster slung over his outstretched hand. When Evan spun in circles looking all over the floor for it, David cleared his throat and waved the weapon belt. Evan strode across the room and snatched the belt. Then he leaned in and kissed David’s cheek and grumbled, “Thank you.”

“Just part of the service, sweetie.” David followed them to the door, leaned out and called after them, “Come home in one piece. Stackhouse, keep him together, I hate when you bring him home all broken!”

 

 **John Sheppard, Rodney McKay: We Suffer Mornings Most of All.**  
Rodney McKay was not happy. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too,” Sheppard replied automatically, it was a ritual statement at this time of the month and required a ritual response. “Why do you hate me today?”

“I hate mornings. We both hate mornings. Was this crack-of-dawn meeting your dumbass idea?” McKay hissed, sipping his not-coffee. He missed caffine most of all. He couldn’t wait until the month rolled over and the new ration of coffee was released for public consumption. On mornings like this he hated Evan Lorne, the one ultimately responsible for keeping him from coffee.

John shook his head and frowned at his own luke-warm cup of not-coffee. “Nope, Lorne’s meeting.”

“I am going to kill Lorne.” And so, McKay upheld tradition with yet another ritual declaration. Although he didn’t actually attempt to kill Lorne, he just threw his mostly empty cup of not-coffee at the major’s head when he finally strolled into the meeting he had called. Fifteen minutes late.

 

 **Kavanagh: Not Ready to Make Nice**  
He should never have agreed to come here. His so-called colleages didn’t respect him. They gave him the crappy projects to work on. Everything was rationed, he couldn’t get a decent meal. He hated it here.

It had been bad enough when that jarhead Commodore had been in charge, but now they had a keri, a f’ing _keri_ running the Expedition. It was ridiculous. The asshole didn’t even know Kavanaugh’s name. He made notes, he was keeping copious notes to report back to the OIA when he had the chance to do so.

Then they made him take training and go offworld on a team, and that made things worse. He was mocked and teased on top of being ignored by the science department.

It got worse after Weir died. It was all that _keri’s_ fault. Someone needed to make him pay.

 

 **Jack O'Neill, Harry Maybourne: Oh For Cryin' Out Loud**  
O’Neill believed in letting people live their lives however they chose to. He didn’t try to impress his morals or standards on anyone else.

Sometimes, the stuff that came across his desk turned his stomach and made him angry, and made him shove aside his usual non-interference policies. He looked at the coroner’s report in front of him and he literally saw red, he was so infuriated. Another dead keri. Maybourne was involved in the death of another keri under his care. The man was more than a menace. Jack suspected he was a dangerous sadist. He had wanted the man off his staff before, this just cemented his decision to hasten his departure from the mountain.

He picked up the paper and stormed out of his office and down two levels. He shoved the door open and marched in. “Is he in?” Jack demanded of the young Captain manning the secretary’s desk in the outer office.

“Yes, Marshal O’Neill,” she stammered, not used to having him enter the office, this was not a place he frequented.

“Hold his calls. If you hear shots, call the MPs.” Jack didn’t bother knocking at the inner door, he pushed it open and shouted, “For crying out loud, Maybourne, what the hell is wrong with you?”

 

 **John Sheppard, Rodney McKay: Cross-dressing**  
John shook his head in denial. “I am not putting that on.”

Holding up the soft colorful garment, Teyla tilted her head in confusion. “This is a traditional Meloco garment for the celebration of the festival. Surely you wish to honor their traditions, Sub Commander?”

“I can honor their traditions just fine in my BDUs.” John replied, stubbornly jutting his chin out and taking a step back as Teyla advanced on him with the clothing.

“This is so soft, ” Rodney cooed, fingering the material as he pulled it over his head. “I like this color blue.”

“McKay, you’re wearing a dress.” John pointed out.

Looking down at himself, Rodney lifted the hem of the knee length garment and pointed to the loose fitting garment he wore beneath it. “Pants.”

“Under a dress.” Sheppard quipped, rolling his eyes as Rodney reached for the green and blue silken headscarf Teyla was offering him.

 

 **Janet Fraiser: Being Told About the Stargate Program**  
“Your security clearance came through Doctor Fraiser, I can now tell you about the mission you have been assigned to.” Brigadier George Hammond gave her a tight professional smile and gestured to the chair across from his desk.

“Thank you, Brigadier. I have been quite curious.”

He pushed a file folder across the desk to her. “Now, as you are aware, Earth has been involved for several decades with aliens. What you are not aware of is the manner in which these aliens came into contact with Earth in the first place. “ He nodded at the folder.

She opened it and saw a photograph of a large ring. He let her flip through the folder, looking at other photos of aliens and military installations.

“That is the Stargate. It is a device which allows a stable wormhole to be formed, through which we can travel to other worlds.”

“I thought Abydos was a small island in the Mediterranean.” Janet saw a paper in the folder labeled with the name of the mission she knew she had been assigned to.

“No, it is a planet. You will be joining an expeditionary team being sent there, as the medical officer.” He folded his hands and looked at her intently, perhaps judging her reaction. She remained as calm as she could.

She cocked her head to one side. “You’re sending me to another planet?”

“Yes, Doctor, to Abydos.”

“I’ll need to find someone to watch my cat, she’s independent, but this is a little extreme.”

 

 **Jack O’Neill: Regrets**  
It was the fifth anniversary of Sarah’s accident. Jack did what he did each year, he drove out to the cemetery.

He stood in silence, lost in thought as he stared at the stone marker. There were some painful ‘if onlys’ that came up on this day. If only they had not been quarreling again, Jack might have said a proper farewell instead of a hard angry kiss on his way out the door. If only Jack had not been away on that mission, Sarah would not have driven alone to Charlie’s basketball game. If only she had been wearing her seatbelt, she might have survived the wreck.

 

 **Hank Landry, Cameron Mitchell: It'll All be Okay**  
The recovery from the crash was going to be long and painful. The doctors said he would never walk again. He had been trapped too long in the downed bird on the ice in Antarctica. His prognosis was poor. Wendy Mitchell had come from Kansas and moved into Cameron’s quarters to be near him during his rehab, his mother was trying to keep his spirits up, but she was fighting a losing battle. He hated the hospital. He hated the helplessness. He hated the way his body would not do what he wanted it to do, when he wanted it done. He hated that his career was over and he would never fly again. He was a prisoner in this broken body now.

“Wing Commander Cameron Mitchell?” An authoritative voice asked, waking him from a restless doze. He opened his eyes and saw a man in a Commodore’s uniform standing at the foot of his bed.

“Yes, Sir, that’s me.”

He stuck a hand out, and Cam shook it with as much strength as he could muster. “Hank Landry, SGO Command Council.”

“I’d stand to attention, but you know…” He knew it was a weak crack, but he made it anyway, and even threw in a sickly sweet smile to go with it.

Landry eyed his casts, braces and the devices holding Cam in traction. “Your file came to our attention. I came to make you an offer, Wing Commander.”

He gave a derisive snort. “I’m hardly in a position to be taking on any missions now or in the near future, Sir.”

“If you agree to this, you might be. The Jirante have a procedure they would like to test. You seem to be an ideal candidate with your spinal cord injuries. If it works, you’ll be good as new.”  
Mitchell held his breath, stunned by the offer. The Jirante did not often interfere, it was like pulling teeth to even get them to do the keri procedures. “And if it doesn’t work?”

“At best, the same as you are now, at worse, you could die during the treatment.”

“Those are some choices.”

Landry gave him a grim smile. “You’re a brave man, Mitchell. You’re young and strong and by all accounts, just stubborn enough to prove all these doctors wrong and walk out of here under your own steam. I think you’ll be okay. I think it’ll all be okay.”

 

 **Lorne/Parrish: Debate the Officiant of Their Ceremony**  
“You’re such a girl.” David laughed as Evan paced back and forth across the hotel room.

Evan stopped and stared at his new partner, his keri, damn, he was a bonded panor'eten now. “Because I’m nervous?”

David flopped back on the bed and reached for the can of peanuts, tossing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. “Because of all this.”

“Don’t choke. I’d have a hard time explaining to everyone that you died on the eve of our joining ceremony.”

David scowled and continued tossing the nuts. “Why do you even want the ceremony? We’re already bonded, no one is going to separate us, why the old fashioned stuff?”

Flopping down beside him, Evan reached his hand into the can and fought David’s fingers to get a few of the honey roasted nuts out of the can before his keri ate them all. “Maybe I’m old fashioned. Maybe I want to stand up in front of everyone and claim you publicly.”

“Maybe you’re just a big girl.”

“Or that.” Evan agreed and rolled over on top of David, smothering him with kisses.

When they came up for air, David groused, “Could we at least have a minister? If you’re going to be all ‘I swear before God’ and all that, shouldn’t we have a man of the cloth to say the words over our little bowed heads?”

“I didn’t think you were religious.”

David twisted his lips and asked, “Did you not hear me last night invoking his name repeatedly?”

“I want to hear you do that again.” Evan ground his hips slightly and nuzzled along David’s neck.

The _keri_ chuckled, “I think you know how to start the ball rolling.”

 

 **John Sheppard, Rodney McKay: Puddle Jumper Crash - Rodney Hides his Injuries**  
John couldn’t see very well, his one eye was swollen shut and the other had blood and sweat rolling into it. He thought that he had crashed the puddlejumper, but that was a fact he was uncertain of.

“Rodney? Ronon? Teyla?” He called, coughing as the effort made his chest lock up.

“I’m here. The others are unconscious.

“Are you hurt Rodney?”

McKay didn’t answer him, John felt the puddlejumper shake as Rodney moved forward.

“There’s a lot of blood Sheppard. Are you all right?” Rodney’s voice was far away.

“I don’t know.” John looked down at himself and blinked his one good eye as he realized he was most definitely not all right. “I have a piece of the windshield in my gut, McKay.”

“Oh, God.” Rodney whispered as he crawled up between the seats and looked at John.

“Are you hurt Rodney?” John noticed there was a lot of blood on his friend too.

Rodney waggled a hand. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself. Don’t you die on me, Sheppard, I don't want your damned _keri_ blood on my hands.”

 **John Sheppard: Snakes on a Puddlejumper**  
Ordinarily, John enjoyed sneaking away from his duties and leaving the responsibility of running the city to Lorne for a few hours.

He frequently volunteered to shuttle people to the mainland, just to have an excuse to fly the puddlejumpers. He had made many friends among the Athosians and liked to stop in and visit with them when he could.

Since David Parrish was a frequent passenger, he had grown much closer to Evan’s _keri_ over the past year or so. He had also become quite chummy with many of the other scientists that he ferried back and forth. He’d found he had a lot in common with some of them. Some, not all. He still hated Kavanaugh, and the feeling was obviously mutual.

Today, Sheppard did not like any of the scientists in his puddlejumper. At all. They were all on his shit list. He was flying the puddlejumper while crouched uncomfortably in the pilot’s seat. There was no way in hell he was putting his feet down. The idiots had somehow dumped over two sample cases and now there were snakes loose on the floor.

No, today Sheppard was not enjoying playing hooky from his real job.

 

 **Daniel Jackson: Loses his Glasses**  
“You are going to get us killed!” Jack hissed at Daniel as the archeologist scrambled around on the sandy floor. “Get your ass back here!” He reached out and swiped at Daniel in an attempt to get a grip on him or even his clothing so that he could yank him back out of sight of the concealed hostiles.

“I dropped my glasses.”

“Jack, I might kill him myself. You promised me you’d keep the geek in line. You’re failing me Jack!” Sub Commander Kawalsky complained. “The pretty little doctor on her first mission is a hell of a lot less trouble than your seasoned bookworm!” Kawalsky pointed at Janet Fraiser, huddled at his side with her sidearm cluthed in her petite hands.

“Daniel!” Jack called as Jackson crawled away, further out into the open expanse of the room. “Daniel get back here!”

“Found them!” Jackson called happily, and stood up, waving the glasses triumphantly.

Staff weapons fire from three directions hurled at Jackson’s head. Uttering a stream of curses and disparations upon Daniel’s ancestry, Jack hurled himself at the oblivious doctor’s midsection, tackling him and rolling with him behind the relative safety of a fallen pillar.

Stretched out on top of Jackson, O’Neill raised his weapon, and scanned the area for the source of the enemy weapon fire. He glanced down and found Daniel glaring angrily up at him. “What? I just saved your ass.”

“You broke my glasses!” Daniel waved the bent frames and shattered lenses at him.

 

 **Janet Fraiser, Samantha Carter: 2 O'clock in the Morning**  
“Could I get something for a headache?” Sam Carter asked as she approached Janet’s desk. Her appearance was unexpected, janet was working the night shift rotation, but Carter was not, and thus must still be here working overtime.

Janet looked up with concern for her friend. “Did you wake up with a headache?” She came around the desk, pulling her penlight out of her pocket.

“Hard to wake up when you haven’t been to sleep yet. I was working. I lost track of time.” She allowed Janet to look into her eyes and shine the annoying light over her.

“You work too much. You need to scale back your hours Carter, before you run yourself into the ground. Studies show regular breaks increase productivity.” Janet went to the pharmacy cabinet and unlocked it, pulling a packet of pills out and extending it to her. “Go to the mess hall, eat something. Then go home and sleep for eight hours.”

Sam opened her mouth to protest, but decided it would be best not to argue with the woman capable of encarcerating one in the infirmary with just the stroke of a pen. “All right. I’ll try.”

 

 **Cameron Mitchell: Wormholes**  
Wing Commander Cam Mitchell had done some dangerous things in his time, some even in the line of duty. He had drag raced his daddy’s mustang to the edge of a cliff. He’d gone cliff diving in Hawaii. He’d tried parachuting for fun, and found it not too much different than jumping out of planes for Air Services and gave it up as a hobby. He had flown in a potential suicide run over the base in Antarctica, and been shot down. He’d volunteered for a dangerous medical procedure in the hopes of walking again.

This? This ranked up there with the best of his crazy decisions. He was sitting in the cockpit of a tiny little experimental ship, a ship that was argueably more sensor equipment and recording devices than actual flying machine. He was about to attempt to skirt the edge of a wormhole created without the benefit of a nice, round, naquada laced ring to contain it.

He was out of his mind.

 

 **John Sheppard, Evan Lorne: Stress Relief**  
“I’m not going to hit you.” Evan said, letting the wooden sticks dangle at his sides.

“You’d better, ‘cause I’m sure as hell gonna hit you!” John warned, circling his friend.

Evan sighed. They had this argument frequently. John insisted on physical training with the marines and seals, and every once in a while, insisted on sparring with Lorne. “John, listen, really, I mean it.” He jumped aside as John feinted at him with one of the Athosian fighting sticks. “I’m serious, is this some head game you play? You know I can’t hurt you, you know I won’t. Do you do this because you know I’m safe?”

He knew he’d made a mistake when John’s shoulder drooped and he looked completely crestfallen. He turned away to put up his sticks, and answered simply, “No.”

“Then why? I need to understand this. If it isn’t for the easy win, then why?”

“Easy win? Do you think so little of me, Ev?”

Lorne ran his fingers through his hair, annoyed with himself for hurting his friend’s feelings. He knew he’d done so, he knew his friend’s body language. “No, of course not. I just wanted to know why.”

John turned and rolled his neck on his shoulders. His expression was guarded as he said, “Stress relief. And I don’t pick you because you’re easy, Evan. I ask you because you’re careful. You make me work harder to be clever. I can’t use brute strength when you’re holding back. I know you hold back. I wish you wouldn’t, but I can’t ask you to not be _panor_ and more than you can demand I not be _keri._ ”

“Well then, pick ‘em up. Let’s see how well you’ve learned Teyla’s dance moves,” Evan pointed his stick in the direction of John’s bag.

His friend hesitated, then smiled and retrieved his weapons.

 

 **Aiden Ford: Hope**  
Sub Commander Aiden Ford, the bright light of the Air Services, on the fast track for a star cluster by forty, sat huddled on the filthy floor of his cell. The space vampires had taken people away, he had seen one of them drained of life. The Athosians in the cell sat apart from him, frightened, praying to their ancestors. Sergeant Conroy stood by the door, peering out.

Resisting, squirming to get away, Commordore Sumner had been dragged off not long ago. Ford wondered what had had happened to Sumner, if he was still alive. A noise caught his attention and he saw movement by the door.

Impossibly, Sheppard and Bates were there, at the door. Ford ran forward, but Sheppard had already disappeared, leaving Bates to free them. From the pit of his belly, Ford felt the rise of something he had thought lost. Hope.

 

 **Parrish/Lorne: Crossdressing**  
“Like my legs, soldier? You come back to my place and I’ll show you a real good time.” The feathers of the hat tickled Evan’s cheek. “I’ll love you long time.”

Chuckling, Evan slid his hand up the back of the fishnet encased leg, up under the skirt and cupped one cheek firmly and squeezed. “Long time, eh? Not forever?”

David smiled and breathed close to his ear, “Oh, forever, panor’eten. I promised you forever and I mean to keep that promise. C’mon home and help me out of this dress, these shoes are killing me.”

 

 **Parrish/Lorne: Ageplay**  
“Tell me a story daddy,” David begged, climbing up into Evan’s lap and sticking his thumb in his mouth and sucking on it.

“Oh, did we have one of those days, Davie?”

“Uh huh. It was a horrible no good day, story.”

Wrapping his arms around him, Evan rocked David and began to recite one of the stories he had memorized for these rare occasions when David felt the need to be a baby for a while and be coddled and cosseted. The sex was always good afterwards, so Evan played along.

 

 **Parrish/Lorne: Domestic/Tradesman Kink**  
“I’m just not sure about the costume, Evan.”

“You have great legs, keri.”

“Yes, I know. But a french maid?”

“Don’t forget your feather duster.”

David eyed his panor’eten and picked up the feather duster. “What do you expect me to do with this?”

“Just hold onto it for me, I have a plan. Now, bend over like you dropped something. All the way over.”


End file.
